


Broken Sparrow

by canthelpmyselves



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Desire, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Misunderstandings, Murder, Protective Leonard Snart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 01:30:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17592158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canthelpmyselves/pseuds/canthelpmyselves
Summary: Mob boss Leonard Snart quickly becomes obsessed with the new pianist in his club. Unfortunately for him, Barry Allen is incredibly good at evading Len.





	Broken Sparrow

**Author's Note:**

> There is a tiny bit of era-specific homophobia mentioned, not in the shape of slurs or attacks, but in the form of Len having concerns about backlash from breaking morality laws.

“See something you like?”

Len easily refrained from rolling his eyes at his sister as she took a seat beside him in the booth. It wasn’t hard, since he was unable to take his eyes off of the young man on the stage. Len silently berated himself for being so obvious. He was usually much more careful than that. “What can you tell me about him?” 

Lisa lit up a cigarette using the candle in the center of the table. “Barry Allen. He’s 22 even though he looks younger. No family to speak of. Ronnie brought him in last week for an audition. He was playing at that dive outside of Keystone. By the end of his second song even Mick was looking a little impressed.”

Len glanced at Lisa in surprise. “Mick? He hates music!” he responded.

Lisa shrugged. “The kid’s got talent. I hired him to play Fridays and Saturdays.”

Len turned back to the stage and watched as Allen’s hands slowly stroked the piano keys. His head was bowed, eyes closed as he focused on the music. The piano bench had been turned so he was straddling it, Sara stretched out on the remainder of the seat behind him, their backs pressed together. She closed her eyes for a moment as the music began to swell. She lifted the microphone to her lips and began to sing. The two sounds melded together magically. Len could see awe in several patron’s faces.

Couples swayed on the small dance floor. Some nodded along at their tables. Len felt himself relaxing into his seat. The kid’s hands were elegant. His hair was a little longer than was fashionable, his fringe falling down to hide his eyes. His lips were thin, but had a lovely shape. He had a lean frame under the scarlet colored dress shirt he wore. He was ethereally beautiful.

Len knew he would have to proceed with caution. It wasn’t the morality laws he worried about. He had little respect for any laws, much less ones that tried to inhibit or regulate his affections or pleasures. No, the real problem was that the club may be patronized by people skirting the prohibition laws, but that didn’t mean they were willing to flaunt all laws. It was one thing to actively pursue the young man in front of his staff. Len had absolute trust in his employees and knew they would not make a scene about his ‘interests’. His customers might not be so open minded.

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Len picked up his scotch and took a sip. “I want to meet him.”

Lisa smirked. “I thought you would. I already told Sam to send him over after the show.”

Len allowed a tiny smile to pass over his lips. His sister knew him well.

* * *

Len glanced at his watch for the fourth time before looking around the club. He spotted Sam, the sax player, talking to a dame at the bar. He was considering sending someone to see what was taking Allen so long when Sara strutted over and sat down. She leaned over and placed a tiny kiss on Len’s cheek before sitting.

“Barry left,” she informed him.

“What do you mean?” Len asked sternly. “He quit?”

She shook her head. “No. He left for the night. Left this for you,” she said, holding out a small note card.

_Mr. Snart,_  
Thank you for your kind invitation, but I must decline.   
-B. Allen 

Len’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had declined an invitation from him. It made something stir to life inside him. A challenge. That’s what this was. Well, Barry Allen had no idea who he was dealing with. 

* * *

Len ‘Captain Cold’ Snart was king. He held a tight rein over South Central. Booze, drugs, prostitutes, weapons. If it was profitable, he ran it. He also had a hand in several more-or-less legal businesses. He had cultivated partnerships with politicians, feds, and Mafia families in neighboring cities, alike. He could have anything he wanted at a moment’s notice.

Anything but Barry Allen’s attention, apparently.

Three weeks had passed since he invited the kid to his table, and still he managed to avoid Len. No matter what Len tried, the moment the kid was off the stage, he was in the wind. Short of planting himself on that piano stool, Len was running out of ideas on how to corner him. He tried issuing a second invitation. He got a second note, exactly like the first. He tried waiting in the dressing room. The kid never returned to it. He tried waiting backstage, but Barry managed to slip past him, somehow. Tonight he was determined to end this cat-and-mouse game. He had Mick in the dressing room, Mardon by the back door and he was waiting just off stage. 

The last song finally came to a close, the applause deafening. Len leaned against the wall as Barry stood and helped Sara off the piano. Len licked his lips as Barry walked his way. “Hello, Mr. Allen,” he purred.

Barry froze in mid-step, his eyes wide with surprise.

Len paused for a moment to allow Barry to greet him in return, but the younger man looked positively shocked. Len raised an eyebrow at the rudeness, but continued. “I thought it was time you and I finally met.”

“M-Mr. Snart,” he stammered in a faint voice. “I’m sorry, sir, but I have to go.”

Len shifted, blocking Barry from getting to the backstage area. “Nonsense,” he drawled. “You’re through for the night, correct?”

Barry gave a hesitant nod. “Yes, sir, but...”

“Then there’s no reason for you not to join me and have a drink,” he said. 

Barry’s complexion paled and his eyes filled with something Len was accustomed to seeing in many faces, fear. Of course, usually those who looked at him like that had good cause to be afraid. He hadn’t given Barry reason to be concerned, much less scared. “I can’t,” Barry said hurriedly. “P-please, excuse me, Mr. Snart, but I really have to go!”

“I insist,” he said firmly. Len wasn’t trying to harass the younger man. Sure, he was attracted to him, but at this point it was simply a point of pride to get that sit-down meeting. “You work for me. I meet all my employees. Now, how about that drink?”

Barry’s hands trembled but he gave a barely-there nod.

Satisfied he had won, Len turned and led the way to his preferred table. He sat down and watched as Barry nervously took the seat across from him. Normally he preferred to sit next to such an adorable guy, maybe indulge in a little inappropriate touching to gauge interest, but he wasn’t going to complain. At least he got to stare at Barry full on.

One of the waitresses walked over quickly. “What’ll you have, kid?” he asked.

“Water,” Barry mumbled.

Len rolled his eyes. “Scotch for me. Bring him a gin and tonic.” Barry’s eyes widened, but he pressed his lips tightly together. Len leaned back and stretched subtly, hoping to see Barry’s eyes trail over him. Instead, the kid looked off to the right toward the dance floor. Hmm, maybe that would work better. “Want to dance?” he asked with a smirk.

Barry quickly shook his head. “No, sir!”

Len huffed under his breath. “So, tell me Barry, how do you like working here?”

“It’s very nice,” he answered softly. “Ms Snart is very gracious and kind.”

“My sister is many things, kid, but kind ain’t one of them.” The waitress returned with their drinks and left as soon as she had set them down. “So, local boy or transplant?”

“Local,” Barry mumbled, turning his drink around in circles. “My dad used to run a clinic over on 23rd.”

“What’s he do now?”

Barry sighed softly. “Dead. Tried to stop some looters during the ‘09 riots. I was seven.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Len said hesitantly. 

Barry shrugged as he lifted the glass and took a tiny sip. “It was a long time ago.”

Len tried to think of something to say to ease the awkwardness, but a figure appeared on his left. He knew who it was without looking. “Mick?”

“Sorry to interrupt, but there’s a call for you,” the large man grumbled. 

Len gave Barry a smile to hide his annoyance. “I’ll be right back.”

Len walked over to the bar and grabbed the receiver. “What?” he demanded.

“Raider got pinched knocking over that jewelry store on Clayton avenue,” Dillon said angrily. 

Len’s jaw clenched. He told that idiot to lay low! “I’ll send Rathaway,” he growled. He slammed the receiver down and turned back toward his table. His empty table. Len quickly scanned the club, but he already knew Barry was gone. He pounded a fist on the bar top angrily.

* * *

For a month Len stayed away from the club. Lisa had rolled her eyes at him and called him childish, but he purposely ignored her. He couldn’t get the pianist out of his head or his dreams. He had even picked up a pretty brunette coat-check girl at one of his other clubs to try and purge his desire for Barry, but he ended up feeling dissatisfied afterwards. So, he resumed his regular visits to the club.

Len watched weekend after weekend as Barry’s fingers danced across the keys. He had spent several nights imagining them dancing across his skin. He wanted Barry Allen more than he had wanted anything or anyone in a very long time. He dreamed of kissing every inch of that long lean body. He fantasized about Barry returning the favor. He was becoming obsessed. 

Unfortunately, he had little opportunity to get to know Barry any better. He had a talent for vanishing the moment his sets were over. Len was relieved to discover it wasn’t personal. Ronnie, Sara and even Mick tried to befriend Barry, to no avail. This just made Len more curious. Barry was a riddle. A sexy, enticing riddle he desperately wanted to solve.

He decided to try a new tactic. A month after his last attempt, he showed up before the club opened and made his way to the dressing room. He would simply talk to Barry before rehearsal. He was just outside the door when he heard a soft moan. Curious, he pressed an ear to the wood. Another soft moan, followed by a shaky exhale had Len clenching his jaw. Was someone in there with Barry? Was that why he refused Len’s invitations? Len knocked loudly on the door. He wanted to know who had the gall to touch something that belonged to him! The door slowly opened and Barry peered around the edge. His beautiful green eyes widened with alarm. 

“M-Mr. Snart?”

Len pasted a smirk on his face. “Barry. May I come in?”

Barry hesitated for a moment but resignation filled his eyes and he stepped back, pulling the door open. Len walked in and swept the room with his eyes. He was confused to find the small area empty. 

“Is there a problem, sir?” Barry asked quietly. He was still standing beside the door, wringing his hands nervously.

Len turned to face Barry fully. “I believe that’s my line,” he said. “Have I offended you?”

Barry’s eyes widened. “No!”

Len tilted his head as he leaned back against the dressing table. “Then explain the disappearing act, kid. Cause I gotta say, it’s not really endearing you to me.”

Len watched, appalled, as the young man paled and immediately looked down. He pushed off from the table and Barry flinched, literally flinched, and pressed closer to the door behind him. “Barry?”

Barry sucked in a shaky breath and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Y-yes, sir?” he whispered.

Len slowly moved closer, carefully watching Barry for clues. His eyes moved down to see how tightly he was holding himself when he spotted something that made his blood boil. Barry’s sleeves were unbuttoned and had risen up, revealing finger-shaped bruises encircling them.

“Who did that?” he growled.

Barry seemed to curl into himself, lips pressed tightly shut.

Len closed his eyes for a moment and slowly forced his anger down. He opened his eyes back up and reached out to lightly cup Barry’s chin. He could feel the tension in the pianist’s jaw. 

“Look at me, Barry,” he said softly. It took far too many seconds before Barry’s eyes flickered up to his. “I can help you if you let me,” he told him gently. “Who did this?”

“Why would you help me?” Barry mumbled. “Wh-what would you want?”

Len sighed softly. “Nothing. I would never ask you for anything you didn’t want to give. I’ll be honest, I am attracted to you. I’d love to wine and dine you. But only if that is what you want, too. I’m offering to help because this,” he said, reaching out to lightly touch one of the bruises, “this is unacceptable to me. The fear I see in your eyes? That is unacceptable to me. The way you finch is unacceptable to me.”

“Why?” Barry whispered, his eyes searching Len’s desperately.

Len hesitated a second but stepped back and began unbuttoning his shirt. Barry tensed back up, and his cheeks turned bright red. Then Len opened the shirt and Barry’s jaw dropped. One hand slowly reached out, but froze before making contact. Len reached out and gently pulled Barry’s hand to his chest.

Barry slowly traced one of many jagged scars with trembling fingers as his eyes quickly moved from one scar to another. A full two minutes passed before he looked up and met Len’s eyes.

“My father,” Len said calmly. “He was a dirty cop. Not a very good one, either. Got caught taking bribes and did a stint in prison. When he got out, he began taking his frustrations out on me. Took four years and him blacking Lisa’s eye for me to work up the courage to kill him. It’s the one and only time I’ve never regretted killing someone.”

Barry chewed on his bottom lip for several seconds. “He’ll kill me if I tell.”

Len stepped closer and lightly caressed Barry’s cheek. “I’ll kill him first,” he promised.

Barry searched Len’s eyes intently before his shoulders slowly slumped and he carefully lifted his shirt. White hot fury raced through Len when he saw the dark bruises peering out from poorly wrapped bandages. Len didn’t think about what he was going to do. He simply moved on autopilot. He quickly pulled away the bandages before re-wrapping them more securely. When he was done, he smoothed Barry’s shirt back down.

Barry inhaled shakily. “Hunter Zolomon.”

Len nodded and slowly placed his hands on Barry’s waist. He inched closer gauging Barry’s reaction. When only a sliver of air still separated them Barry suddenly wound his arms around Len’s neck and sobbed. Len wrapped his arms around Barry gently and let him cry. He knew this was not an invitation. This was no guarantee that Barry wanted him. It was simply him giving Barry the comfort the younger man desperately needed.

* * *

**Local Professor of Physics at CCU found dead.**

Len scanned the article with pleasure. It had been an easy hit. He had convinced Barry to stay with Sara for a few days. He would have offered a place in his own home, but he didn’t think Barry would accept. Then, he and Mick had waited in the darkened apartment for the man to come home. Zolomon was begging within five minutes. An incoherent, drooling mess in ten. He had put a bullet through the bastard’s temple just to stop the sobbing. With his connections, it was easy to have the man’s death written off as self-inflicted, despite the obvious torture. 

Clean-up was even easier. Barry had few possessions in the place. Zolomon had been a stingy lover. Apparently every penny Barry made was confiscated by Zolomon as ‘compensation’. While there were dozens of diplomas and awards bearing his name, framed photos of him and prominent people displayed around the living room, there was only one of Barry, standing between a young black woman and a pretty blonde man, almost hidden away in a tiny back bedroom on a small table. Len took that, and all of Barry’s clothing to Sara’s the next morning.

There was no emotional hug, this time. If anything, Barry looked even more scared. After Sara sent him off to unpack she told Len and Mick he was worried he would be blamed or that he would owe Len a debt he couldn’t repay.

Len sighed. “I’ll explain to him that he doesn’t owe me anything.”

Sara shook her head. “Words won’t work,” she told him. “He’s had nothing but lies and false promises for ten years, boss. You’ll just have to prove to him you won’t hurt him.”

“How?” Len asked, genuinely wanting to know.

The singer smiled faintly. “Treat him good and he’ll come around. Might take some time, cause the kid’s pretty messed up, but if you’re patient...” she gave a shrug as she poured them both drinks, “who knows.”

“Anything he needs, send me the bill,” Len instructed.

Sara nodded. “He doesn’t ask for much of anything. He won’t do anything without asking permission first.” Sara paused, anger flashing through her eyes. “The kid asked me what time he had to be in each night, Boss. I think that’s why he took off all the time. If he wasn’t home by a certain time, he got knocked around.”

Len thought back to the night he made Barry join him. Had he gotten knocked around for being late? Shit! Had he inadvertently caused Barry pain? 

“Barry was poor, orphaned and had no one to protect him. Zolomon was his father’s financial partner and became his guardian. Then, when Barry turned legal, the creep began sleeping with him, saying Barry owed him. It wasn’t long before he began abusing him. Barry had no friends, no family, nowhere to go.” Sara sighed and shook her head. “He has no confidence in himself, Boss.”

Len nodded thoughtfully. Confidence he could provide. He knew how important that was to a person, especially one who had seen the brutal side of life. He’d build Barry back up.

* * *

Len smiled as Barry stepped off the stage. The past few months had been a real eye-opener. No longer living in fear, Barry had bloomed. He smiled more. He had made friends with some of the staff. Even his playing had improved, which was astonishing, since he had been amazing before. “Love the new stuff,” he complimented. “Very upbeat.”

Barry blushed, his eyes flickering up at Len before focusing on the floor. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “Sara thinks it will encourage more dancing.”

Len nodded. “More dancing means they get thirsty which means they drink more.”

Barry nodded, shifting from one foot to the other. “M-Mr. Snart, I want to thank you,” he mumbled softly. “For the suit. I… I know I shouldn’t accept it, but it’s the nicest thing I ever owned.”

Len shrugged casually, doing his best to put Barry at ease. “Lisa suggested you and Sara match. Least I could do for my star performer.”

Barry fidgeted again for a moment before letting out a soft, slow breath. He looked up, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Len’s heart stuttered as Barry took a tiny step forward and brushed his lips across Len’s cheek. 

“Thank you, not just for the suit,” Barry whispered shyly.

Len swallowed, his skin tingling where Barry kissed him. “What for?” he whispered back.

Barry’s shy smile grew a bit brighter. “For not giving up on me,” he answered, the words so soft Len had to strain to hear them. His courage seemed to desert him because he blushed bright red and hurried away.

Len turned to watch him go, feeling hopeful. It had taken six months to get to this point. He hoped it wouldn’t take another six to move forward, but if ever there was someone he’d be willing to wait for, it was Barry.


End file.
